His Smile
by HereIGoAgain
Summary: The smirk on Oz’s lips right now was positively wicked. Raven could feel the curve of his mouth as he parted his lips to make way for his servant’s tongue, and he moaned, reaching up with a hand to clutch painfully at Oz’s yellow gold hair.
1. Part 1

**A/N: Hi...Okay well. *holds up chin* I promise I won't ramble. Short and sweet: I'm Laura, this is my first fic, I hope it's not too crappy. I've been a FF reader for years now, so I guess it's time I finally try and take a stab at my own story. (Sorry for the crap title. It's crap. I know. Gomen. And sorry for any OOC-ness or factual errors. Yup, everyone fails and I'm no exception.)**

**"Don't Trust Me" 3OH!3 WHOO! Thank you. I finished the fic listening to that on repeat. :D**

**NOTE: This chapter picks up near the end of chapter 13 of the PH manga. I was inspired by the scene where Gil is watching Oz sleep...=) And it kinda turned into...this...ha.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pandora Hearts...psh, for real if I did, Gil and Oz would have woooo a long time ago (XD)**

* * *

His Smile

Raven sighed, pushing his hand through his hair wearily, brushing the black hat off his head.

He couldn't take those memories sometimes. _What had he become?_

The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon, filtering in through the window behind the armchair where two children slept.

Well. _One_ of them slept in the armchair, looking perfectly comfortable, her leg outstretched and using Oz Bezarius's head as a footrest.

Raven's eye twitched and he huffed over to his master, pushing back the arrogant rabbit's foot. Stupid rodent.

He carefully slipped his arms under his master's body and lifted. Immediately, Oz fell against Raven's chest, his face tilting so his cheek was pressed against Raven's neck.

Raven paused, then continued to walk towards his own temporary headquarters in the house. He laid Oz down gently in his bed, reluctantly letting the fragile frame slip from his arms.

His heart seemed to swell as he gazed down at his young master; the boy who had been taken away from him so suddenly, and been kept away for ten years. In that time span, Oz had not changed once.

But Gil.

But Raven.

But he was a completely different person. Oz shouldn't be forced to associate with him…

But Oz wanted him to stay. And Raven himself wanted to stay at his master's side, more than anything in the world.

Oz's lips were parted in his sleep, and he looked so peaceful…so innocent.

So exactly as beautiful as Raven remembered him to be.

Raven leaned forward, his blood thrumming in quick beats beneath his skin. His lips burned, and his fingers seemed to have developed a life of their own. They fingered Oz's bright golden hair, and Raven wished he wasn't wearing the damn gloves; he wanted to _feel_ the contact.

With his face hovering mere inches above Oz's, his eyes focused, intent and adoring, Raven snapped back into logical thinking.

_What the…_

His fingers slipped from Oz's hair, and the young master's eyes flickered open.

Raven tensed up, his body freezing.

_Damn it. He…I…_

Oz's eyes were still clouded from his sleep, but it only took him a few moments to come to his full senses.

"Gil…" he murmured, frowning slightly. "Are you…what's wrong?"

He _would_ ask him if something was wrong. Oz had always shocked Raven when they were little, by showing that he _cared_ for him. Even in his dominating, teasing way of expressing himself, it was apparent that he _cared._

"I—I don't…" Raven eyes went wide when Oz's hand found its way to Raven's cheek. The small hand, smooth and pale from lack of labor, sent sparks shooting off through Raven's body.

_Stop, stop, stop._

"Gil…" Oz said. He smiled complacently, and his fingers curled in and out oh-so-gently on Raven's pale cheek, caressing the flushed skin.

Raven pushed himself up into a sitting position. Oz braced himself on the bed and followed Raven up, his eyes alight and glinting.

"You're embarrassed."

"No…"

Oz smiled, tilting his head to the left and pulling off the mischievous puppy dog pout to perfection.

"Then why…what's the reason for this?" Oz asked, reaching out and skimming his fingers down Raven's cheeks, which were dusted pink.

"It's just hot in here."

_Ah, how brilliant._

Oz leaned forward on his knees and reached out to hold Raven's face in his hands; small compared to Raven's, who suppressed a pleasured shiver. Oz studied him seriously.

"Thanks for putting me in bed."

"It's the least I could do."

"No…" Oz looked away over Raven's shoulder, a distant smile forming on his face. "Not really. Thank you."

They sat there in the quiet room. The moon shined down through the window, illuminating Oz's face, giving him the appearance of a glowing angel.

"What were you doing before, Gil?"

"What?"

"Right before I woke up."

"I was just…."

Oz turned to meet his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Just looking," Raven muttered, wishing Oz wasn't so forward with him. _He always has been. _"Can you…get off…" he trailed off meekly, the Gil Oz had grown up with shining through his dark, mysterious façade for the briefest of moments.

Oz's smile widened and he leaned forward, his forehead bumping against Raven's. "Gil?"

Raven froze up again and closed his eyes. "Yes, master?"

And then there were lips touching his: firm, confident, teasing, and gentle all at once.

Oz. Oz's lips.

_What?! _

…

_What?!_

Raven jerked back, almost toppling right off the bed, his gold eyes wide and his pink face about five shades darker than it had been two seconds ago. He felt a lurching sense of déjà vu.

"O-Oz? Are you crazy—what was that for?!"

Oz puffed out an amused whiff of breath, a giggle slipping past his lips.

"Gil—I'm sorry," he said between chuckles. "That…Did that bother you?"

Raven tried to hide his grimace. Bother him? No. At least, not the way Oz was asking. His lips were still tingling, and he wanted that pressure again _so badly…_but…but why was Oz doing this? Out of nowhere, too! What actually _bothered_ Raven was that Oz was probably just joking around. Just like he had been before.

"It just surprised me," Raven said honestly, looking away. His hands curled into fists at his sides, but the shadowy room hid them from view. Oz was acting so strange. But then again, strange was the norm for the young master.

The bed sheets ruffled in warning, and then Oz was right there in front of him again, inches away from his face. Raven glared at Oz.

"Stop. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're acting weird."

Oz shook his head. "Gil…what are you?"

Raven stared at him blankly.

"What am I?"

"What are you to me?"

"I…I am your servant."

Oz's eyes seemed to light up again. He casually turned to Gil's hands, gently sliding the gloves off. "And a servant does his master's will right?"

Raven stared at Oz numbly.

Oz flicked Raven in the forehead once, a playful look in his eyes as he mimicked the action Raven usually performed on him. "What else are you, Gil?"

"I…I am your friend, young master."

"And friends should…?" Oz leaned closer still, his breath a gentle caress over Raven's lips.

"Should—Master," Raven protested, but Oz closed the distance between them and Raven's mouth was unable to say anything more.

"Mas—" Raven pulled his head back to protest but Oz just leaned forward, directing his servant so that his head bumped against the wall and he no longer had an escape.

"Mm," Oz purred and Raven's inhibitions snapped.

He opened his mouth and traced his tongue over Oz's lips, those lips, nearly always curved in a smile, whether it was cruel, happy, fake, mischievous, cold…

_Wicked_.

The smirk on Oz's lips right now was positively wicked. Raven could feel the curve of his mouth as he parted his lips to make way for his servant's tongue, and Raven _moaned_, reaching up with a hand to clutch painfully at Oz's yellow gold hair.

"Gil," Oz said, his voice coming out in a gasp. Raven felt something deep within him shudder and suddenly, Oz was on his back with a _thump_, his hair spread around his face like a sinful angel. As if to prove that analogy, Oz smirked at his grown servant…

…_and licked his lips._

Raven bit back a groan and clutched the material at the front of Oz's shirt in a dangerous grip. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Oz reached up, sliding his hands into Raven's glossy black hair and again, there it was, that wicked smile. Raven had to fight very hard not to bring his young master's delicate body up against his own and just…

_Damn!_

Oz's smile was relentless, and his eyes twinkled mischievously as if he knew what Raven was thinking. And then there was—_fuck!_

"Ah!" Raven gasped, his grip on Oz's shirt tightening even more. He slid one hand around to Oz's back, pressing—_God, yes_—pressing their hips together. Raven gasped again as Oz moved up against Raven's trembling body.

"O-Oz," Raven choked, squeezing his eyes shut. "Damn it, you—"

"I'm just helping you out a bit," Oz said with a grin, in response to Raven's previous question. "You don't seem to _mind_."

"Are you—crazy?" Raven ground out. His grip on Oz's shirt slackened, and now both hands were on Oz's lower back, pulling the body up against his, and _oh_ if felt good, and he'd wanted this ever since he'd hit fucking puberty at thirteen, maybe even before that. He'd become aware of his desire…ever since that one joke of a kiss.

He'd always thought Oz was beautiful, inside and out. Inside—he was confused and hurt and, yes, messed up—but Raven—but _Gil_ believed that Oz was still utterly and wholly beautiful.

"Oz," Raven—Gil—whispered into the delicate skin of his neck. His tongue slipped out from between his lips and he tasted sweat and his mind was utterly blown away by an essence that was purely _Oz_; Oz who was suddenly gasping beneath him, his eyes half closed and shimmering.

"Gil," Oz said, and his voice was no longer in control and amused—it was breathy, almost a whimper, and the boy blinked heavily, turning his head so more of his neck was exposed, an open invitation for _Gil_ to continue.

Gil shook his head, and feeling the movement with his hands that were still woven into the black hair, Oz turned his head to look up at him.

Before Oz could speak or even throw him another seductive smirk, Gil leaned down and his lips smashed messily against Oz's. He felt Oz's legs wrap around his waist, he _felt_ Oz's erection pressing against his and Gil's mouth fell open in a moan, one Oz quickly smothered with another kiss.

Their tongues slid over each other slowly; Gil thought Oz was being a little playful, and he prevented himself from making a face. It made sense that Oz would still trying to be playful, teasing, and dominant while they were _making out_.

Oz pulled back, and that submissive, starry-eyed look he'd had before was gone. Gil wondered if he'd imagined it. The sinful smile was back, made all the wickeder because Gil was very _aware_ of Oz's hips grinding slowly up against him.

_Where the freaking hell did this child learn how to do this?!_

Oz grinned at him and said, "Gil, where did you learn how to kiss so well? When _we_ kissed last time, you were completely clueless."

Gil flushed, much to his young master's pleasure. The memory of that awkward kiss had been poking at his consciousness ever since Oz had started whatever the hell _this_ was. It finally pushed itself to the front of his mind.

It had been another one of Oz's little pranks, another one of his games, poking fun at Gil. They been alone, exploring the woods around Oz's house, about six months before the blonde boy's disappearance. Gil was struggling to keep up with Oz, who was taking all sorts of complicated paths over tree roots and boulders.

"Young master!" Gil panted, his voice coming out in an exhausted squeak. "Please, this is hard, can't we just sit down for a moment?"

Oz glanced over his shoulder at Gil, and Gil had about two seconds of forewarning: he saw the familiar wicked gleam shine in the boy's eyes, and then he was airborne, flying at Gil. Gil yelped, but he didn't have time to duck or step out of the way—Oz had slammed into Gil painfully, sending them both flying backwards. Gil yelped again when his hip knocked against a rock, and he felt the tears of pain fill his eyes.

"Young master," he whimpered, his wet eyes wide. "Wh-wh-what was that for?"

Oz grinned down at him, looking very pleased. "Well, you wanted to rest! Look, we're not walking anymore."

"B-but my hip hurts," Gil whined.

Oz was still smiling, but a thoughtful had begun to settle over his eyes. It made Gil very nervous, and he began to struggle to get his master off of him.

"Ah—master, you're heavy!"

"Your hip? Here?" Oz ignored Gil's complaints and touched the sore hip gently, making Gil freeze.

"Um, yes," he mumbled, his face heating up shamefully.

Oz glanced at Gil's blushing face and his grin morphed into a smirk. "What's wrong?"

"I-I-I…" Gil said uselessly.

"Gil, you are such a blubbering idiot."

Gil sniffed and then he squeaked, the sound coming out muffled—because Oz was now kissing him.

Gil's eyes were very wide as he felt Oz's lips move against his. And his face was probably just a _mortifying _shade of red right now. God he felt so _hot…_

"Nn," Gil tried to talk, but Oz wasn't making that an option—in fact, he made it totally impossible when he pushed his tongue into the other boys mouth.

Gil's heart thudded at a painful rate. Oz's tongue licked the inside of his cheek and he had to hold back a...a _moan?_ Gil stayed unresponsive for a good ten seconds when he suddenly became aware that Oz was doing all the work. Hesitantly, totally terrified out of his mind, he tried moving his lips so they were pressing back against Oz's at least a little. He felt a whoosh of sudden breath wash over Gil's face, dispelling from Oz's nose, and he wondered if that was expressing disapproval, amusement, arousal or…

_Arousal? What?!_

_What?!_

"Mm!" Gil tried to speak again, but Oz only swirled his tongue around the inside of Gil's mouth. Gil's eyes fluttered closed and, without thinking, he sucked.

_Hard_.

Oz pulled back suddenly, and Gil's eyes snapped open in time to see Oz pulling his tongue back into his mouth.

He squeaked and shoved at Oz with enough force to knock the boy onto his back.

"Oz, what are you doing?! I mean….you're crazy!"

"Gil has never kissed someone before," Oz said with a delighted grin.

Gil sputtered, not even bothering to mention that that had most likely been Oz's first kiss too—the boy had been too good at it for him to have a reason to argue about his statement.

Gil, meanwhile, had been totally clueless.

Snapping back to the present, Gil glared down at Oz. "What did you expect, an expert? Of _course_ I was clueless!"

"But what about now?" Oz murmured, and he pulled himself closer to Gil, his lips brushing against his servant's as he spoke. Gil wondered if sexual appeal just came naturally to some people.

It must have, for Oz. There was no way he'd done _anything_ like this with…anyone at all.

Unless that damn _rabbit_ had tried something, and Gil wasn't aware—?!

"What?" Gil said stubbornly, cutting of his thoughts; he moved his head so he wouldn't have to talk against Oz's mouth. Oz giggled and then Gil felt something _wet_ and glorious tracing patterns around his ear. He shivered and sat back so he could lean against the wall by the bed. Oz adjusted himself to the movement, straddling Gil's hips with his legs, his tongue still teasing the skin around Gil's ear.

"Your kissing has improved," Oz said quietly. "How did that happen?"

Gil bit back a gasp as Oz delved his tongue right into his ear. "H-how the hell w-would _you _know an—_ah—_anything about good kissing?!"

Oz giggled, tugging on the curve of Gil's ear with his teeth. "You're not answering the question."

Gil bit back a shudder and remained silent. The Nightray household required you to do many things to get what they needed: Kill, seduce, steal, lie…

"Gil, are you a virgin?"

Gil's eyes snapped open and he felt his cheeks darken.

"I—uh—"

Oz leaned back, and looked at Gil curiously, his lips curving wickedly. "Giil," he sang, and Gil turned his head, avoiding his master's eyes.

"Gil's done it, Gil's done it!" Oz sang. Gil growled angrily and tried to keep ignoring him. If he said nothing, maybe he'd just drop it—

"Was it a boy or a girl?"

Gil's face was beet red, just like it had been when Oz had kissed him that time ten years ago.

"Was it both?"

"It's _not_ your business; I never said I did it, anyway," Gil mumbled.

"Gil's _embarrassed_," Oz grinned, sliding his hands around Gil's neck. "You think you'd be more confident after—"

Gil slapped a hand over Oz's mouth, his gold eyes narrowed. "Be quiet!"

Gil felt Oz's lip move under his hand in a smile, and then something wet was sliding over his fingers.

"Geh—" Gil made to jerk his hand away but Oz's fingers were no longer playing with the back of his hair—they were locked around his wrist, holding it there, and his mouth was covering one of Gil's fingers, his tongue wrapping around it like—like…

"Ah," Gil squeezed his eyes shut, his breath coming in sudden, loud gasps. Oz was watching him, his green eyes shining. He slowly pulled Gil's finger out of his mouth, nipping the end playfully. Gil jerked it back, feeling alarmed by the way he was reacting. Where the hell was his control?

_You have no control with Oz, _Gil_. Oz is Gil's master._

_Oz is _your_ master._

Oz put a finger up to his lower lip and looked up at Gil through his eyelashes. The look was _pure temptation_ and Gil actually clenched his fists hard enough to tear through skin so he wouldn't—

"Gil," Oz said, and Gil's train of thought was cut off (fortunately) by the suddenly innocent tone of Oz's voice. Oz pressed his finger against his lip, as if he was nervous. He locked eyes with Gil and said, "Would you take _me_?"

…

"What?"

Oz bit his nail and Gil felt something was very _off_ about the boy's nervous behavior. What the hell, what was he trying to…?

"Well since Gil seems to be such an expert," Oz said demurely, "I was thinking he'd be willing to help me."

"Help you with _what?_" Gil said stupidly.

"It doesn't make sense that my servant would have sex before his _master_. I want you to amend that, Gil."

Gil's mouth dropped open in complete shock. Oz's innocent expression was shattered when he smiled up at Gil, that—that stupid, stupid _glint_ shining in his eyes.

He didn't know what he was feeling. His emotions all seemed like a big sea of crashing waves, mixing and roaring and smashing together, and he couldn't make sense of it—and then…

"Oz!" Gil protested, but no, Oz's lips were on his neck, and Gil moaned, feeling utterly wretched and sinful and _right._

He was now practically ten years older than Oz. Oz was still a teenager (_though that mouth was _not_ something a fifteen year old boy should posses)_ and Gil was in his twenties and…

…and his tongue felt so good sliding against the skin on his neck.

"Oz," Gil moaned, grabbing the younger boy's hips and pulling him as close as physically possible.

"I take that a yes," Oz said, sounding very pleased.

"Shut up," Gil said, not sounding half as irritable as he should have. Oz closed his eyes and hummed happily, brushing his lips up Gil's neck.

"You're very handsome, Gil," Oz murmured in his ear as Gil moved up against him. His voice was a little breathless and it just turned Gil on even more.

"Ah," Oz gasped as Gil grip tightened and his thrusts against his young master became wilder. The blonde clutched at Gil's shoulders with small hands and bit his lip to hold back a moan. "You were _cute_ back then, Gil."

"Nn," Gil growled, planting a sloppy kiss of Oz's lips in a weak attempt to shut him up.

"Did you—_ah_—think about me?"

Gil grabbed the back of Oz's head and pulled him in so his ear was level with Gil's lips. "Everyday," was the simple, breathless reply.

Oz shivered and turned his head, kissing his servant hard. Gil nipped at Oz's lips and Oz opened his mouth, letting Gil's tongue slide in over his own. He rubbed against it with his own, and, for the second time that night, he was pushed onto his back, with Gil hovering over him.

"Gil," Oz whimpered, his legs still locked around Gil's hips. He clutched at Gil's shirt, popping open the first few buttons.

"Oz…" Gil said, his gold eyes dark. He lifted a hand to rest on top of Oz's fumbling ones, but made no move to stop his master.

"Ne, Gil," Oz said with a shimmer of his old smirk. His eyes glinted again. "You know, technically speaking, I'm twenty-five."

Gil pursed his lips. "You have the body of a teenage boy, though."

"But you're still turned on," Oz whispered, pushing himself up closer to Gil with his free hand. Leaving Gil's shirt half open, he snaked his other arm around Gil's neck and kissed him quickly, his lips now fully upturned in that smile.

Gil grunted and grabbed Oz around the middle, pulling him up fully against him; then he turned so his back was on the bed and Oz hovered over him.

"I know you're 'older than me', but you're still in danger of being crushed," Gil said snidely, and Oz bit back his chuckle. He pushed himself off of Gil and settled in between his legs. His hands drifted towards his servant's pant fastenings. Gil yelped and tried to sit back up, but Oz pressed his hand down on Gil's arousal, and Gil fell back flat on his back, drawing up his legs so they bent at the knee around Oz. "Ah, don't—" he protested weakly as Oz pulled at his pants. His body betrayed what he said, and his hips lifted so Oz could pull them off.

"Hey, Gil, you're not wearing anything underneath," Oz said with a delighted smile. "I—"

"Oh _Gilbert!_"

Gil paled and sat up as though someone had poured a bucket of ice water on his head. "_Shit!_"

Oz was trailing fingers up over his servant's throbbing erection, his eyes intent. "That sounds like Break."

"It _is—_ah! _Stop that!_"

Oz grinned. "It feels good? I've never done this before."

"_Nng_—please—I mean, _stop!_"

"_Giil_bert!" Break's obnoxious voice was coming closer. Gil's heart was thudding fast in his chest. Knowing that weirdo, he wouldn't be surprised if the clown popped out from out of the closer any second now.

Heh, came out of the closet—

"_Get under the covers!_" Gil hissed to Oz.

"Ah, it's dark, though Gil," Oz said, pouting as Gil scrambled to yank the covers back and pull them over Oz's head.

"Shut up. Don't move!" Gil ordered.

"Gil, you shouldn't be telling _me_ what to—mmf!"

A pillow was shoved into his face. "Stick that somewhere next to you so you're not some random lump."

"Gil, your pants are still undone. And I'm not going to be the only random lump if you don't take care of your _problem_—"

"Shut _up!_" Gil hissed, his face flaming. He heard footsteps outside of his room. Damn, damn it. What was he going to do…?

He pulled the covers up to his chin and promptly turned on his side so he was staring at the wall, his back to the door. Oz shifted near his legs, and Gil felt his fingers trailing up his exposed skin.

"_Don't you dare_," Gil snapped. "I swear…"

"Heh," was Oz's reply.

The door burst open right about then, silencing the retort Gil had been about to make.

"Sleeping, little Raven?"

"Shut up!"

_You idiot!! You could have just faked sleep, you damn idiot._

"_Not_ sleeping, I see. I was wondering where that brat went off to?"

"Don't call him a brat."

"You're avoiding the question!" Emily cut in snidely.

Gil looked over his shoulder at the pair, wishing they'd drop dead. "He's not with the rabbit?"

Break was smiling at him in a way that made Gil really, _really_ uncomfortable. As if he knew that Oz was—

_Oh fuck._

Gil's body jerked in shock, his eyes going wide.

_That little BASTARD._

Not only was he ignoring Gil's explicit orders to _not_ touch him _there_, he was totally making this situation a million times more difficult for Gil than he needed it to be.

_Oh_. That felt good. _Shit._

Oz was sucking him off from under the covers and it felt—

"What's wrong?" Break asked, his smile growing. "Did something bite you?"

"_Nng_—what the hell—no!" Gil ground out, trying to ignore the feel of Oz's tongue swirling arou—

"You look uncomfortable. Are you perhaps worried for where that young master might have gone off to?"

Gil grit his teeth and reached down to grab roughly at Oz's hair. Oz ignored the warning and continued to lick his erection, knowing that Gil wouldn't dare tug on his head, lest he draw too much notice to the oddly shaped lump that he was.

"_Oh­—_" Gil gasped when he felt Oz's fingers trailing up the insides of his thighs. His stomach clenched, and he felt…

_He needed to stop before Gil fucking orgasmed right there with Break and his creepy doll five feet away._

"Raven?" Break tiptoed closer, grinning like a maniac. "It's very odd that you don't know where the boy is. I mean you're always so keen on his safety. What if something's happened to him?"

"No—_no, ah_—nothing!" Gil squeaked, holding back the animalistic urge to thrust his hips forward as Oz gave a particularly hard suck. "Nothing's happened!" he said quickly, burying his face into the pillow so he wouldn't have to look at Break.

"How do you _know_?"

_Dammit, he was going to kill both Break _and_ Oz!_

"I'm his servant!" Gil snapped, ripping out a few strands of Oz's hair with his tight grip. "I just _know!_"

"Ne, Raven, why did that pillow just move?"

Gil whipped his head around and shrieked when he found that Break's face was only inches away from his own.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Oo, someone is touchy. You look flushed. You must be catching a fever. Is your stomach feeling okay?"

That stupid smile was stuck fast on his face as he spoke. Dammit.

"_Ah!_" Gil gasped when he felt Oz's hand circle around the base of his erection. _The little bastard was probably enjoying this whole thing_.

"The pillow moved again," Break said happily, pointing at the lump that was Oz. "What are you hiding there, Raven?"

"Nng," Gil squeezed his eyes shut as Oz's mouth pulled back along his erection, and then moved forward again. His hand followed the motion. Gil thought his eyes were going to roll back into his head when he felt Oz's tongue stroke slowly along the bottom of his arousal.

"Gil, I think whatever's down there is the cause of your flushed state. I should probably take a look—"

"_Don't you dare!_"

Break raised his eyebrows, his fingers inches from the top of the covers. "Ooo, how scary."

"Get _out!_ Oz is—_hah—_f-fine, dammit! Leave!"

"But Raven, I am worried for—oh, look at the time. I guess I've been here for too long." Break smiled, holding up his hands in surrender as Gil's gun knocked into his forehead. "See you tomorrow, Raven!"

"Goodnight, Oz Bezarius," Emily catcalled as the door shut.

_What?! That damn clown, he must be bluff—_

"_Ah!_ God_dammit_ you're…so stupid!" Gil moaned, the gun clattering back onto his nightstand as Oz pushed Gil over so he was flat on his back again. With his free hand, Oz flipped the covers back over his head. He made eye contact with Gil, and Gil almost came right then and there—Oz's green eyes were dark and heavy lidded; his hair was ruffled, hanging in his eyes. A few pieces stuck to his sweaty, hollowed cheeks.

"_Ahhh_," Gil moaned, reaching down and gripping Oz's hair with his other hand. Oz closed his eyes and let Gil push him back and forward over his erection. Gil tried his best not to get too rough but…

"Mm," Oz hummed, his eyes flickering open, shining mischievously. Gil gasped raggedly at the vibration the sound made and his legs jerked. Oz glanced to the side at Gil's s trembling thighs and the devious glint in his eyes strengthened.

_Dammit, now what is he—ack!_

Oz's hands were now drifting up and down Gil's thighs, his touch feather light and tingling. Gil was _this_ close to screaming like girl—when Oz moved forward with determination and Gil felt the back of his length hit Oz's throat.

_Oh my _God_ how did he—this isn't—_

"_Oz!_" Gil said in a choked whisper, trying to keep his voice down. He was sure Break was keeping an ear open. "God, Oz—Oz I'm about to—"

Oz pulled back slowly, but didn't seem to be worried about Gil coming right in his mouth. And Gil did. White liquid spilled out around Oz's lips, and the rest he swallowed, looking perfectly happy about the whole situation.

"_Dammit!_" Gil moaned, gasping pathetically. Oz had turned around and was pulling Gil's pants off the rest of the way as if nothing had just happened.

"You—"

"That was interesting!' Oz said with a smile, and Gil flushed at the white splatters on his master's face. Oz leaned forward over Gil and licked his lips. "You taste good."

"Sh-shut up," Gil mumbled, blushing furiously. "That was uncalled for. Break was right there."

Oz grinned. "That's what made it so fun."

He leaned down and kissed Gil chastely and Gil could taste _him_ on Oz's lips. His tongue slipped out and licked a trail of the drying come off of Oz's cheeks. He was shocked, and pleased, to see a light blush dust his master's features.

"I love you," Gil whispered without thinking.

Oz froze, and then Gil froze himself, realizing that…

What?! Oh God. What had he just—

Oz leaned back and stared at Gil, his green eyes wide. His cheeks were an absolute delicious shade of pink now, and one of those rare, truly surprised looks was on his face. "Gil?"

"Uh," Gil said, fumbling around for something to say, to cover what he'd just—

Oz then smiled, and all other thoughts flew from his mind. This smile wasn't playful, or filled with ill intentions.

_This_ smile was pure and _happy._ And Gil hoped he wasn't being presumptuous in thinking it was _real_ happiness, not fake or put on like Oz's normal expressions.

"Gil," Oz said softly, running his hand down Gil's cheek. He wrapped his arms around Gil's neck and hugged him tightly, kissing his neck. He was quiet for a moment, and then said, "I love you too. You're my best friend…"

Gil laughed dryly. "Oz, best friends don't…do what you just did."

Oz grinned against his neck. "Can you show me what other things they don't do?" he asked impishly, pulling back to give Gil a coy look.

Gil flushed, but caught Oz (and himself, admittedly) by surprise when he took Oz's bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back playfully. "You don't know what you're asking for, young master," he said quietly, trying to hide his smile.

Oz smiled, and with his sweaty, bed rumpled appearance, he looked like the picture of sin.

"Then show me."

~End…?~

* * *

**A/N: Um...*smile weakly* This is my first ever...ever anything. You can probably tell...*whoosh***

**So. Yeah. I really don't know what to say. I don't know what to think of this. Thanks goes to MyVampireEyes for proof reading it for me n'stuff.**

**I'll continue (maybe, maybe, I don't know :O) if enough people want me to. Or if I just get the urge to write a lemon, haha! So review if you'd like, I'd certainly appreciate ^.^**


	2. Part 2

**A/N: First of all, holy flipping crap! I really cannot believe I got over 20 reviews. I was just hoping for a few, haha! That's like awesome for me. And all the people who favorited the story and me as an author? Really? *THANK YOU!* THANK YOU so much. So for all of you who reviewed so wonderfully, I have made the awaited part 2 (lemon :O)**

**Wah. I tried my bestest. I hope you guys don't positively hate it. It continues pretty much right after last chapter, *lol* so...yes.**

**Enjoy the Gil x Oz smex.**

* * *

Gil blushed as Oz followed that statement with a chaste, but inviting, kiss on the lips. "Gil?" he murmured, putting his hands on either side of Gil's face. "You're still cute." he said out of the blue.

"Uh?" Gil said brilliantly, hoping he wasn't blushing.

"Cute," Oz whispered, locking his wicked mouth onto Gil's neck and biting down gently. Gil gasped, his eyes fluttering shut.

"'M not cute…?" Gil mumbled as Oz licked at the fresh, painful looking bite mark on his neck.

"You're definitely handsome," Oz said casually. "But you're still Gil. And Gil is cute."

"I'm ten years older than you!" Gil said indignantly, his hands fluttering nervously up and down Oz's body. Was he really going to…?

Was it even possible…?

That was rape, wasn't it?! Oz was barely fifteen!

_Well technically—_

"_Ah!_"

Oz beamed at Gil's shocked, screwed up expression and let his finger run over his right nipple again. Gil cursed. Explicitly.

"Gil!" Oz said, eyes widening mockingly. "When did you get such a dirty mouth?"

"When did _you _get such a dirty _mind_?" Gil retorted. He was painfully aroused all over again from those few touches and Oz, angelically smirking down at him, traces of his climax _still_ visible on his cheeks, wasn't helping the situation. It took all of his willpower not to grab the arrogant young master by the hair, shove him down on the mattress, and just fuck him until—

_WHOA. STOP, STOP, STOP. _You_ will not be fucking anyone. Especially your _master, _who, ignoring "technicalities" is still fifteen years old while _you _are twenty-four. You will not go through with this. You will resist temptation…_

But "temptation" was now bent over his chest, an almost curious expression on his face—and then he ran a tongue over the pert nipple, earning a strangled yelp from Gil.

_Fuck resistance. The little bastard is asking for it._

He grabbed Oz by the hair and pulled on the silky strands _hard_, surprising Oz, who glanced up at Gil inquiringly, but showing no traces of the painful grip on his hair.

"Yeah?" he said sweetly, licking his lips tantalizingly.

Oz squeaked in surprise when Gil launched himself forward. Oz flew backwards, his back banging against the bed (for the third time that night.) His head hung over the edge of the mattress, but before he could lift it, there was Gil's body on his; desperate fingers fumbled with his pants, and was he using his teeth to rip open his shirt—?

A frantic sort of "_ahh_" gasping sound slipped past Oz's lips. Gil's hands, large and grasping, were holding his sides, thumbs stroking the soft skin—and those were his _lips_ on his neck, that was his _tongue_ sliding up against the skin, and those were his teeth scraping, biting, nipping—

"Aa—_aah_," Oz gasped again, his voice rising a few octaves. "G-Gil," he said breathlessly, his fingers burying themselves into Gil's black, wavy hair.

"_Oz_," Gil murmured huskily making Oz jerk up against him. His pants, where the hell had they gone—how had Gil—but who cared because oh _God_ he could feel Gil's erection rubbing against his, and Oz _mewled_ it was embarrassing—but he didn't mind. It was Gil, _Gil_ whose fingers were trailing down his sides, making Oz squirm and gasp, and why was he breathing so _loudly?_

"Hn!" Oz squeaked when he felt a finger brush at his entrance.

And this time it was Oz who was blushing, it was _his_ cheeks that were covered in that endearing scarlett color. Gil panted heavily against his master's neck, not wanting to (but _oh he wanted to_) proceed until he knew Oz was okay.

"N-n," Oz said incoherently, arching his back. Gil felt a small, trembling hand grasp at his hand and bring it up towards his mouth.

"Y-you can't do it just like th-that," Oz gasped, his eyes heavy. He held up Gil's finger and licked it, his pink tongue curling around the pale skin. (_Did Oz realize how many people Gil had killed pulling the trigger with that finger?)_

Gil closed his eyes. _Watching_ Oz do that would only make his control worse.

_What control? You've totally lost it._

All he was aware of was right then though, was Oz's mouth, hot and wet, closing over his fingers for the second time that night, coating them in saliva. His tongue, _dammit _that wicked tongue, flicking and caressing and sliding over the 's breath hitched when Oz finally pulled away.

"Okay," Oz said simply, a smile present in his voice.

Gil could feel Oz's legs spreading, and then his knees were locked against Gil's hips. Gil's eyes snapped open, his wet finger sliding back over Oz's entrance as if it was on an automatic control. Oz let out a high-pitched keening sound, his head hanging back over the edge of the bed.

Slowly, as carefully as he could manage, Gil slipped a finger in past the first ring of muscle.

Oz tensed and Gil bit his lip.

"Gil!" Oz gasped, his eyes wide.

"Sh, young master," Gil whispered, disentangling himself from the leg lock Oz had him in and sliding up Oz's body so he could nuzzle his neck. He pushed the finger in more, quickly, before Oz could tense around him again.

Oz's head was thrashing from side to side, a high broken moaning slipping past his bruised lips. "G-Gil, it feels…"

"I know," Gil said against his neck.

"…please." Oz's grip on Gil's hair tightened. He let out another whine when Gil inserted another finger and pressed himself down on Gil's hand. Gil hissed in pain when one of Oz's nails scratched at the sensitive skin of his neck.

Oz didn't think it was safe to feel so damn _hot_. His whole body felt flushed, and he could feel his hair, nearly dripping with sweat, sticking against his cheeks, his forehead, the back of his neck. Gil _had_ done this before. There was nothing awkward about the way he scissored his fingers, probing deeper, making Oz make such degrading _noises…_

Oz suddenly shrieked, his eyes flying open and his head flinging back so violently that it banged against the side of the mattress. Gil gasped and pressed his lips to Oz's neck, hiding a smile. _He'd found it, then._

"_What?_" Oz gasped, his voice cracking about seven times in that one syllable word.

"Did that feel good, young master?"

Oz tugged hard on Gil's hair. "Gil! _Ohh_…"

A third finger was pushed in.

Ow. That hurt a little now. Oz bit his lip, trying to ignore the pain and focus on Gil's lips brushing gently over his jaw, his tongue flicking out now and then—tried to focus on Gil's other hand, his fingers stroking feather light up his chest, trying to tug his open shirt off. That feat was near impossible what with Oz's hands entangled in Gil's hair and Gil only able to use one hand.

"Giil," Oz murmured, his voice almost a whine. Gil lifted his eyes, waiting for the command. "Gil, you can stop with the fingers," he whispered.

Gil obediently slipped his fingers from Oz and the boy moaned, his eyelids fluttering. "Y-you…have…something…?"

Gil was already spitting into his hand and using his saliva as makeshift lubricant. Oz flushed and tried his best not to breathe too heavily…it wasn't like he wasn't embarrassed _enough_…_But Gil looks so—_

"Young master?" Gil whispered quietly, gently caressing Oz's pale thigh. "Is this…position okay?"

_Why was Gil so freaking polite?_ Oz thought to himself, wishing he had the strength to be more irritated. _I wish he'd just _doit_ I can't take much more of this, I need something _in_ me for heaven's sake…hurry up—_

"It's fine, just…er. This'll be easier, won't it…?" Oz quickly flipped over onto his front, scuttling back a little so his head no longer hung over the edge. He sufficiently buried his face in the covers. There, that would hide his blush, wouldn't it? He lifted his right hand expectantly, and Gil laid his own hand over the back of it, weaving his fingers in between Oz's. Oz breathed slowly, trying to prepare himself. This was going to hurt, he knew. But he trusted Gil. Gil would make him happy, he knew he would…

"Okay…Oz…"

Oz licked his lips and shivered when he felt _Gil_…there. _Right there._

"Aargh," Oz whined impatiently. "Gil _please_ just _go!_"

Gil hesitated a few more seconds. "Okay…"

And then—

Oz shrieked, the sound coming out half choked.

"_Ow!_" he said loudly, banging his free hand on the covers. "That _hurts!_"

"I'm _sorry_," Gil said through gritted teeth. Oz stared at him over his shoulder, wide-eyed, indignant, and in a hell of a lot of pain. He winced a little when he suddenly felt Gil's grip on his hand tighten. _Ow_, like he wasn't hurting him _enough_.

"Giil," Oz whined softly. He reached, getting a loose hold on some of Gil's black hair. He tugged. "Make it better."

Gil hissed. "Can I…_move?_"

Oz scrunched up his face. "Ah—okay. Slowly."

Gil gasped and moved back a little, bringing himself out—

"_Aah_," Oz said, screwing his eyes up. "Gil, it really hurts."

"It'll be…okay," Gil gasped. Could Oz feel that his whole body was trembling? Was Oz even _aware_ of the raging desire pounding through his veins? _God, he was tight…_

"Nnng," Oz huffed, his nails digging into the covers when he was nearly all the way out. "Okay…it's okay, do it again," he whispered, bracing himself.

"_Ah—_" Oz choked, his back arching when Gil quickly slid in again. "Ahh," he groaned. "_Giil!_" he whined breathily. "When will it stop _hurting?_"

"Oz," Gil whispered, and Oz bit back a sigh when he felt Gil's finger trailing gently down his cheek, pushing back some of his sweaty hair. "Soon. Okay? You…you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"_Ack—oww._ Ahh, Gil, please—"

"Shh," Gil murmured against the back of his neck. "It's okay."

Oz held back a ragged gasp, _refusing_ to even make the smallest sound that sounded like a sob. No, he would _not_ cry. Gil would feel awful, _I'm fine really—_

"Nng!" Oz hissed in surprise when he felt a tongue on his face, gently licking off the…_tears._

_Damn it._

"I'm fine," Oz said quickly, but Gil ignored him (_that's a first!) _and continued to lick and kiss at his face, caressing, tasting, comforting.

Oz felt himself blushing again.

Gil pulled in and out slowly, gasping heavily, trying to let Oz get used to the feeling, praying to God he wasn't in too much pain.

And Oz found that the sharp, stinging pain was…fading…slowly. Gil was being careful, and he was making it all right. Oz wondered vaguely if he was bleeding? Probably. It wasn't like their bodies were a perfect fit. _No, they weren't. Oz hated to admit it, but Gil _was _older. He's _Gil_, but he _is_ older. Physically _and_ emotionally. _

Oz breathed in raggedly, turning his head to look back at Gil.

"I—mmpf!"

_Ahh…I wonder if it feels better for him? _Oz wondered as Gil's tongue totally invaded his mouth. Gil pulled back a little and his grip on Oz's hand tightened. And then—

Oz shrieked loudly, pulling away from Gil's mouth and banging his head foreword on the bed. But this time, the scream _wasn't_ from a sudden pain that made him feel like he was being ripped in two. _No._

_That had felt fantastic._

"_Gil!_" Oz gasped, his eyes wide, staring pointlessly at the bedspread. He quickly turned his head again and found Gil was smiling at him, though his eyes were a bit far off, distant, hazy. _He's really turned on._

"I told you…" Gil said quietly. "You just need to get used to it…and let me…"

"…do that again!" Oz demanded, his voice gaining the I'm-your-master-and-you'll-do-what-I-say tone. Ignoring the painfully obvious breathlessness and the way his voice cracked.

Gil pulled back and thrust in again, hitting Oz's prostrate. Oz moaned, making chills run all over Gil's body. Oz arched his back and turned his head again to look at Gil with wide, shimmering eyes. "Gil," he said, his tone playful, his voice gasping.

Gil pulled back and rammed forward again, smashing his lips against Oz's in the process. Oz moaned into his mouth and Gil could feel Oz's hand under his own gripping the covers tightly enough to damage the fabric.

Oz had never felt more explosive pleasure in his life. _Not ever. Was this even possible? Ahh…that felt so good. He didn't want it to stop. Ever. _

"_Hah!_" Oz gasped, his voice coming out in a squeak. He pressed himself back against Gil. "More, Gil. _More._"

Gil had to stop himself from growling. _Don't get ridiculous_ he commanded himself, thinking it was a wonder he even had a thread of common sense left. What with Oz's writhing, sweaty body underneath him, his lips working hard against his own, that tight, hot entrance that was accepting his length more readily by the second—he was lucky he hadn't turn into the equivalent of a wild animal.

"Giil," Oz moaned against his lips, his breath hitching when Gil moved down to attack his throat. Oz clenched the bed covers even more tightly, trying to stop himself from being pushed off the bed as Gil's hips thrust against him. His skin chaffed against the coarse bed covers and he whimpered quite involuntarily. "_Nng_. You're…" he gasped, his body jerking. "…so good….Gil." He gasped again, feeling his insides tighten. "Mm! …_Gil!_ I think…Gil, I feel—"

"You're going to come," Gil whispered huskily into his ear, his tongue flicking out over the skin and making Oz whimper. "I am too," he latched his lips onto Oz's neck as he pulled out, readying himself—he was so close, so close…

He drove himself in one more time and Oz _yelled_, cutting off his own cries by biting down on the blanket. Gil's teeth dug into Oz's neck, his own orgasm spurred on by his masters cries. Oz clenched around him, and Gil swore he almost passed out right then and there from the feeling.

Oz gasped loudly, lifting his head from the blanket, his body trembling under Gil. Gil let out a long heavy sigh and pulled out of Oz, rolling over and landing on his back with a dull, heavy _thump_ next to Oz.

And for several minutes, the only sound in the room was that of their heavy breathing as they tried in vain to catch their breaths. Gil was still trying to blink the white stars out of his eyes when he felt a hand grab at his wrist, felt fingers trace up his arm and tickle at his neck. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch that now caressed his face.

"Gil?"

Gil blinked heavily. When his vision focused, the first thing he saw was Oz leaning over him. The little white stars surrounded his face, and with his half-smile, the expression both sinful and innocently angelic, his golden blonde hair hanging around his face, his green eyes shining, Gil thought he had somehow died and gone, miraculously, to heaven.

Really.

Then Oz leaned down and smacked him one on the lips, giving just enough nip to prove to Gil he was _not_ dead or in heaven (really, he _must_ be delusional if he thought he'd made it _there._)

"Gil," Oz whispered, wrapping his arms around Gil and burying his face in his neck. "Gil, I really love you. Even as you are now, with Raven. I love you."

Gil's eyes widened over Oz's blonde head. Slowly, he brought a hand down and stroked Oz's head once.

"Thank you…"

Oz smiled against his neck, and Gil's heart swelled. He loved that smile so much. No matter what it conveyed, no matter what it was hiding, or what it wasn't.

That smile was Oz's—and Gil loved Oz. He breathed in slowly and swallowed.

"Oz—"

_Click._

"—_aaaaaah! _WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Oh my, my, what have we interrupted, Emily?"

Oz whirled around and blushed when he saw Break standing in the doorway, the hideous Emily positively leering at the pantless pair. Though he made no move to dive for the covers, unlike Gil, who was scrambling desperately for them. It _was_ rather difficult, considering they were lying on the _end_ of the bed on _top _of the covers.

"Gilbert, what have you done to the brat?"

"Ah!" Gil said desperately, finally getting ahold of the top of the covers. He pulled back sharply. Oz yelped as he and Gil were promptly sent flying over the end of the bed, the bedcovers flying and settling over them like a deflating parachute.

"G-get out!" Gil said furiously, his head poking out from a space in the mess of covers now on the ground. He glanced desperately at his gun, lying useless on his nightstand several feet away.

Break beamed. "What kind of responsible adult would I be if I condoned this behavior? You are an adult, Gilbert. You should _know_ better."

Gil blushed to the roots of his hair. "You're not a freaking responsible adult, Break!" he snarled. "So don't worry about it and _leave!_"

Oz giggled from under the covers. Yeah, easy for _him_ to laugh, he was hiding nice and safe under the blankets.

Break leaned up on his tiptoes, grinning happily. "I don't know, Gilbert…you've been awfully naughty…"

"Y—haah!" Gil choked, his hand slamming down on Oz's back. He shoved the boy away as best he could through the covers. "_Don't you dare try that again!_"

"My, my, I really did interrupt something," Break said breezily.

"What dirty boys," Emily snickered.

"Please behave, Gilbert," Break smiled at him and promptly turned on his heel, leaving the room.

"At least he shut the door," Gil muttered blackly. He got up and lunged for the lock, clicking it in place. "Shit." He blushed again. He would never, ever be able to look Break in the face for…

For forever, basically.

Oz finally found his way out of the bundle of covers. He smiled cutely at Gil. "Don't look so embarrassed."

Gil threw him a dark look. "Oz…"

Oz stood up, a bit shakily. He was really tired after everything. But, dragging the bedcovers around him, he stumbled his way over to Gil who sat on the bed hugging a pillow. He clambered up onto the bed and leaned against Gil, forcing his servant to flop down on the bed. "Gil," he murmured happily. "I love you."

All other thoughts (like just how he was planning on avoiding Break for the rest of forever) left Gil's mind. He blinked, and looked down at Oz, who was snuggled up against his side, his eyes closed, a small smile gracing his features.

He traced Oz's lips with a finger, and Oz murmured playfully, his voice slurring a little from exhaustion, "Don't try and seduce me while my guard is down, Gil." He threw an arm over Gil's chest and his smile widened a little. "Calm your stamina."

Gil laughed softly, adjusting himself carefully so he was lying on a pillow, Oz still cuddled up against him, his smile stuck fast on his face.

"Goodnight, Oz."

* * *

**A/N: So that's the end. Tada! *bangs head on table* I think I epically failed. Haha! I'm sure some people will tell me song. You can bringz it *gestures to bring it with hands* :P. Be gentle? =D**

**I'm working on a new Oz x Gil fic atm. In a bath. Muahaha. I'll try and get that up soon. Thank you again for the reviews for the first part, and I hope you liked this...O_o I actually ended it without Break coming in, but it was painfully cute, and I wanted Break to come in again. Haha, I couldn't help myself.**

**Thank you MyVampireEyes for proof reading. And thank you (MVE) and BleedingVampireLove for inspring me to finish editing this w/ that roleplay...Lol. *dead***

**P.S. If anyone is curious to see one of Oz's wicked smiles and for some reason cannot picture in your mind, just look at my avatar. I died when I saw him.**


End file.
